Spoiled
by SaxonnyRETURNS
Summary: We all know Mystique messed around with Logan's head in X-2. What if she messed with Rogue's as well?


Bobby and St. John were boring her with their speculations on Magneto and Mystique. They had no clue what the duo were _really_ capable of. St. John hadn't been around for the X-Men's little adventure on Liberty Island, and Bobby...well, the Iceman was a little naïve when it came to all things superhero now, wasn't he? Any sort of discussion whatsoever on how the pair could help the team just acted like fingernails on a chalkboard in her brain.

With a cross sigh and an indistinct mutter about talking a walk, Rogue slipped away from the campfire and stalked off into the woods. The boys didn't miss a beat of their conversation. They probably didn't even know she was gone.

It had been a _very _rough day. She had been torn from a deep sleep only to find that the mansion; the one secure, comfortable place in her life, was under attack. She watched helplessly as students, children- her friends- were kidnapped by men in masks. She, Bobby, St. John and Logan fled to Bobby's parents' house in Massachusetts where Bobby came out to his parents, Logan was shot in the head, and she narrowly stopped St. John from slaughtering innocent people.

And all before lunchtime.

On top of that, she had touched both Bobby and St. John; bits of them were rattling around in her head, and they were as annoying as their flesh and blood counterparts could be when they were riled.

Three was a crowd.

Rogue wrapped her arms around herself and drifted aimlessly through the underbrush. Today was also the first time she had kissed someone since that disastrous moment with David when her gift had first manifested. Eighteen years old and only two kisses under her belt. Both had been fairly traumatic. David had been in a coma for three months and Bobby…well, she knew it was only a matter of time before he broke up with her.

When they first kissed she had pulled nothing but sweetness and desire tinged with a breath of frost. It was…amazing. Tender.

But then…something happened. She lost herself in his kiss, in the sensation of touch. It had just felt so good and after playing it safe for so long...his lips were so warm...

By the time she realized what was happening it was too late; Bobby was across the room, gasping and staring at her like she was a monster in a horror movie. He had said it was okay, but she knew better. The last feeling she pulled from him was terror. Bobby was afraid of her touch.

When it came to relationships, that wasn't a good thing.

Hugging herself tighter, Rogue sighed. It looked like those were the only hugs she would get for awhile. It had been nice to participate in careful hugs and gloved hand holding with Bobby but...yeah. She gave it two weeks tops.

She leaned against a tree and sighed unhappily. Just when she felt like she was beginning to get a grip on her gift, too. It was something she had been striving toward: the idea that one day she would have control enough to be able to touch. She had worked one-on-one with the Professor every week for the last year. She had thought it was close, almost there; if she had just reached out she would have been able to grab it-

"Hey."

Rogue started at the scratchy growl that jerked her out of her self-induced misery. The forest was pitch-black but she could see a glowing red ember floating toward her: the tip of his cigar.

She immediately tensed. She was a little too tired and a lot too emotionally raw to be able to deal with Logan right now. Her monumental crush that she had sworn up and down she was over and done with swam right back to the surface when he had showed up at the mansion yesterday. Not good. _Very_not good.

"Can't sleep?" he asked when he drew near, a dark shape at her side.

"Nah," she said, playing it cool. "I just wanted to take a walk. I'm fine."

Chuckling. "I didn't ask you if you were fine." He sounded amused.

"Oh. Well I am. Fine, I mean." Just great. Five seconds into the conversation and she was a typical flustered teen.

The dark shadow leaned closer. "Yes you are," he rasped.

He was so close his warm breath tickled across her skin. She shivered.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or am I gonna have to guess."

She sighed again. One of the best and worst things about her friendship with Logan was the way he could see right inside her head as if she were made of glass. They were the world's most unlikeliest pairing, yet loyalty and mutual understanding tied them together. He was her knight in shining armor, she was his humanity.

The moon had come out from behind a cloud and seeped through the leaves; she could see his wide hazel eyes; bright and focused completely on her. He was so close, so intense and so beautiful that all she could do was swallow nervously and hope he didn't notice how flustered she felt.

"Bored with the boys," she said as lightly as she could manage, her southern drawl sounding sticky sweet in her anxiety. Again he chuckled. Darker this time, deep enough in his throat that it sounded halfway to a growl. She played back what she just said and groaned silently. Could she come up with something that _didn't _sound like she was hitting on him?

He stubbed his cigar out on the rough bark. With a deep sigh that Rogue felt more than heard, he stepped within three inches of her and planted his hands on either side of her head. Her breath caught as he looked down at her, that one eyebrow raised in dry amusement and a small, knowing smile on his face. Her eyebrows rose to her hairline and she could feel the blood draining from her face.

"Logan?" Rogue choked.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Wh..._what_?" It came out on a laugh, that's how shocked she was.

He leaned in closer, a hair's breath away. "Do. You. Want. To. Kiss. Me?"

Every word slipped across her skin like a kiss in and of itself, his husky breath warm against her lips. Rogue stared, transfixed, feeling a jolt of pleasure so deep it was painful as his mouth formed the word 'kiss.' It took her a moment to realize he was watching her, waiting for an answer.

Rogue licked her dry lips. There was no playing this off as light and airy; this was million dollar question serious. "I _can't_. You'll get hurt."

A strand of her snow-white streak had fallen in her face; he brushed it behind her ear without touching her skin. Her eyes widened, her heart skipped a few beats. Dear God, was he serious? Was this really happening? She couldn't think, she couldn't form words, she could only feel her body flame and swell and tighten and freeze.

"Well?" he breathed huskily, the question burning in his eyes.

Rogue couldn't help herself. "…yes," His nearness turned her answer into choked letters on a shaky breath. "But my skin…we can't," she repeated, literally vibrating with desire.

"You can…if you really wanted to," Logan murmured in her ear, nipping the side of it with his teeth and sending a tortured moan tumbling from her lips. He pulled back by the time her skin registered the brush of his lips.

Her throat was tight, painful; the words came out no more than a whisper. "_I want to_."

"So…"

Now he was blowing in her ear; Rogue was five seconds away from screaming in frustration. "So?"

"So do it."

"I…ah…" She and the Professor had been working on meditation and focus as a means to try and gain control of her gift, but the idea of kissing Logan, his willingness for it to happen and his proximity were wreaking havoc on her senses; she couldn't center herself, she couldn't focus-

"Five seconds. What's it gonna be, Rogue?"

She could only stare at him mutely, terrified that she wasn't strong enough, she wasn't mature enough to control her power.

"Five."

She wanted to, God, she had wanted this from the second she saw him in the cage in Laughlin City.

"Four."

Didn't he understand? She had almost killed him twice with her touch...the last few kisses of her life didn't turn out so well-

"Three."

What if she couldn't stop kissing him and he wound up dead?

"Two."

What about Jean?

"One." He pushed off the tree and started to turn away, a look of disgust at her cowardice written across his features.

Rogue did the only thing she could think of- she grabbed the lapels of his leather coat, pulled him down and kissed him for all she was worth. No hesitation and no thought, just her lips against his. He smirked under her kiss and parted her with his tongue until she was moving hers against it. The only sound was their combined breathing that grew heavier with each ounce of pressure. There was no deadly pull coming from her skin, no rush of his energy, just the feel and taste of him. Her legs buckled and he pinned her against the tree with his body, taking control of the kiss. His beard was rough against her cheeks and his mouth was hard against hers, encouraging the whimpers that were falling out of her throat by nipping at her lips with his teeth. One of his hands slid up her side to rest heavy on her ribcage. With a little bit of wriggling against him, he moved it until it was right where she needed it.

He kissed her breathless, her mouth open against his, gasping for air but unwilling to stop this heavenly feeling.

"I love you Logan."

He smiled, slow and delicious.

"Love you too Rogue." With a growl, he ducked his head and moved his mouth over hers so hard she thought she might bruise.

She was elated, she was overwhelmed, she was happier than she could have ever imagined. Her gift was under control and Logan was kissing her, telling her he loved her.

And yet…

Something was scratching at a door inside her mind, an annoying pest that refused to slink away and let her lose herself in the moment.

_~What's it gonna be, Rogue?~_

Oh God, now he was pushing himself into her, groaning, hard and ready against her belly. God yes-

_~What's it gonna be, Rogue?~_

Logan didn't call her Rogue. He was the only one of the X-Men who knew her real name. He called her Marie.

He _always _called her Marie.

Distracted she pulled back, breaking the kiss with an audible 'pop.' It didn't phase him; with a low growl he buried his face in her neck, dragged his tongue across her collarbone in such a way that her spine turned to liquid.

And yet…

Voices. Not that far off, coming from the direction of the camp.

"I could be the good guy."

That voice, muffled by distance, was so familiar. But it couldn't be-

"Logan, the good guy sticks around." Now THAT voice was familiar; it was Jean Grey and she was mad.

Silence from the camp, Wolverine's harsh pants as he kissed his way up her neck the only sound she heard for a few moments.

Then something else from Jean, more urgent now. "Please don't make me do this."

"Do what?"

It was impossible. He couldn't be in two places at once.

Her Logan called her Rogue.

Logan didn't call her Rogue.

Marie gasped, her head jerked back to the Logan she had just said 'I love you' to-

Mystique's ultra-white smile blared rudely out of her cobalt blue face, her yellow eyes burning with mad mischief. The metamorph puckered her lips, blew a kiss, and then leaped to a low hanging branch and swung into a tree before Rogue could retaliate.

Rogue dropped to the ground, her entire being burning with horror and embarrassment. Tears pushed out of her eyes and she locked in place on her knees, trying to keep the screams in her mouth. This was her begging to be let go from Magneto's machine. This was her parents throwing her out of the house. This was the solitude and terror of nights on the road. All at once.

Keep the screams inside.

Mystique's low chuckle sounded from the trees. "See? I said you could control it if you really wanted to."

Rogue knuckled tears out of her eyes, pushed herself to her feet. Her hands and her jeans were muddy. This was every childhood hurt times a million, and Rogue found herself reverting back to the laws of playground justice. "I'll tell."

A blue face poked through the leaves, delighted. "You'll tell? Who will you tell? Your delicious Wolverine? I bet he'd love to know how much you want him."

She turned into Rogue, hung upside down from her knees from a branch. "Oh Logan, I love you," the psuedo-Rogue mocked.

She turned into Jean Grey. "And that luscious doctor, the one he _really _wants, she'd love to know."

Now she was Bobby, his ice blue eyes gleaming. "And your cute widdle boyfriend." She shifted back to her original form. "So…which one shall we _tell _first?"

"No," Rogue whispered, horrified. Her secret would be out; she'd be the laughing stock of the X-Men. Bobby would hate her. Jean would pity her. Logan would leave. In the flash of a second, she came to a decision.

"If you tell _anyone_. If you come near me. If you talk to me, if you even LOOK at me again…" Rogue's voice was dead and buried six feet below. "…I'll kill you."

Again that alto laughter from above, but no more threats to tell. Thank God.

She wanted to be St. John so she could burn. She wanted to be Colossus and smash. She wanted to be Jean and level the forest with her mind. Inside she was everyone and she was destroying everything.

Outside she was clutching her arms around herself and running back to camp. She stalked straight through without talking to anyone.

Jean was busy with the Blackbird, St. John and Bobby were still by the fire, and Logan was nowhere to be seen. Another small praise to God; if she bumped into him now he'd be able to read her face like a book. Thankfully Ororo was asleep in the tent; Rogue crawled into her sleeping bag and rolled onto her side, facing the wall, tears of betrayal running down her cheeks.

Suddenly it finally dawned on her and she stiffened, biting her lip savagely to keep from crying out.

She had touched someone and nothing had happened.

* * *

Logan was busy suiting up and deliberately not looking at Jean Grey. Rogue was busy trying to to not get caught watching Logan suiting up while he was deliberately not looking at Jean Grey. Bobby, in his own world, was busy admiring the sleek leather uniform that was hanging on the rack.

"Where's ours?" he asked Logan, practically drooling at the thought.

Logan yanked up the front zipper and rolled his shoulders inside the leather suit to get used to the feel. "On order. Should arrive in a few years." He stalked off, too preoccupied with his own problems to notice the way Rogue averted her eyes and blushed when he walked by.

How was she ever going to face him again after what she did last night? Mystique had spoiled the friendship she held most dear.

Whispered words caught her attention; she pivoted on her heel and saw Magneto and Mystique huddled together on the bench, conspiring. Magneto looked up and noticed Rogue.

"We love what you've done with your hair."

Her anger blossomed into a whole new species of flower, Rogue was on ultra-rage autopilot as she peeled her glove off. All she saw was Mystique's mocking smile and all she could think was that she was going to grab her and hold on until that blue bitch stopped grinning-

Then Bobby was holding her gently but firmly by the shoulders and telling her to forget about it, they weren't worth her energy. Reason and self-preservation kicked in.

Not here. Not now. Rogue walked away, Mystique's familiar laughter at her back.

Soon.


End file.
